The man had made no resistance when ordered to fall in line and accompany his captors to the cabin under the pines.  Once inside, he had glanced casually around, but Max noticed that he did not seem greatly interested.  From this he guessed that perhaps the other may have seen the interior of the lodge before; Max remembered Obed telling them that some one had certainly been prowling about in his cabin at the time he was away, though evidently frightened off by his return before having a chance to do any damage.

“He isn’t looking at these things, so strange to an ordinary cabin in the woods, for the first time,” was what Max was telling himself; and consequently his heart hardened toward the fellow.

Having previously arranged all about signals that could be given in case of necessity, there was now little more to be said.  Of course Steve had to be counted on as one of the pair to be first placed on duty; he would have been mortally offended had Max failed to honor him with this exhibition of trust.  Then Bandy-legs offered to share his vigil, and Steve eagerly accepted the proposal.

“Take Obed’s gun, Bandy-legs,” said Max; “and remember what I told you about using it.  Shoot low, so as to fill their legs full of lead, if you have to fire at all.  And listen to our shouts as we join you, for we don’t want a warm reception from our friends.  Get that, both of you?”

Steve and his fellow sentry admitted that they understood what their directions were to be.  Then they went out.  The man had been intently watching all these things as though deeply interested.  Since Max had found the second series of footprints, and thus proved the falsity of his claim of being alone, Jake Storms, so-called woods guide and trapper of fur-bearing animals, had relapsed into a sullen silence.

Of course he knew that the game for him was up, so far as attempting to deceive these wide-awake boys was concerned.  Max wondered what thoughts were teeming through the brain of the man, as he sat there on the bench before the fire and listened to what passed between his captors.  As for Obed, he cast many eager looks in the direction of the big fellow, and from the expression on his face Max believed he must be slowly making up his mind toward some move.

Therefore he was not much surprised to finally see the woods boy sit down alongside the man, who turned an inquiring face toward him.  There was also a tightening of the muscles around his mouth, just as though he suspected he was about to be put to a severe test, and would have to gather his wits in order not to make a false move.

“Look here, Jake Storms, as you say your name is,” commenced Obed, once more either forgetting to speak in his usual woods dialect, or not thinking it worth while to bother with it any longer, “I want to make you a proposition.  Do you understand what a nice pickle you’ve got yourself into by prowling around my fur farm, and evidently trying to steal my silver black foxes?  If we take you down to the nearest Adirondack town it means you’ll likely enough, be sent up as a thief.  How would you like that, tell me?”